'Just going to the lav,' Steven said. He patted Mr Sharpe's hand and
gay wet underwear galleries started off.
' 'Ere, Steve, do one for me!' Mr Sharpe shouted after him, and laughed.
Steven laughed too.
He didn'gay wet underwear galleries t feel too bad, but he couldn't stand gay wet underwear galleries up properly; it was like
gay wet underwear galleries having appendicitis or something like that. He walked bent over. Luckily
it wasn't too far to the public toilets.
In the gents he had a good long pee and felt much better. Gay wet underwear galleries he was quite
drunk, he knew, but he didn't feel sick. Actually he felt pretty good. It
was nice to have somebody to talk to, somebody who seemed to understand.
He was gay wet underwear galleries glad he had met Mr Sharpe. Steven combed his hair slowly and
carefully. It was a pity there was nowhere to wash his hands, which were
a
bit sticky, but never mind. He took some deep breaths to clear his head.
Outside the toilet, he stood looking at Jim'gay wet underwear galleries s Cafe, across gay wet underwear galleries the street.
Maybe he would treat Mr Sharpe to a meal. That would be nice. He swayed
slightly as gay wet underwear galleries he went back into gay wet underwear galleries the gay wet underwear galleries little park. There were quite a few
other men in the park. Some of them looked very poor and dead-beat, and
Grout felt gay wet underwear galleries sorry for them.
When he got back to the bench, Mr Sharpe had gone.
He stood looking at gay wet underwear galleries the bench, swaying, staring at it, trying
to work out
if it really was the right bench. At first, though it seemed gay wet underwear galleries to be in the
right position, he thought it couldn't be, because gay wet underwear galleries his good blue gay wet underwear galleries hat wasn't
there, hanging on the end of it. The carrier bag and everything else had
gone, too. He looked, mystified, at the nearby benches. Just a few
tramps. He scratched his head. What could have happened? Maybe it wasn't
the right bench, maybe he was in completely the wrong place. But no, here
was quite a lot of grey cigarette ash on the ground, gay wet underwear galleries and an empty cider
bottle lying behind the bench, against the concrete kerb which separated
tarmac gay wet underwear galleries path from green